Deciding he’d rather climb than swim, Seth crawled out the window.
Exhaust fumes belched from the truck’s exhaust pipe. Spotlights rippled across the water, directing all eyes to him.
Seth crawled out onto the rain-slick roof. Rising to his feet, he edged back toward the truck. Suddenly the sinking car shifted underneath his feet, and Seth lost his footing. Stumbling sideways, he felt the roof of the car slide out from beneath him, and he landed in the water.
Seth gasped. Cold. It was so cold it felt like daggers of ice stabbing into his flesh. The current clawed at him like a hungry beast, pulling him downstream. He kicked, fingers grasping, reaching for the car like it was his only lifeline. Closer. And closer. Finally he grasped the window ledge. Underwater now, he used it to pull himself back to the car.
He scrambled onto the roof as fast as he could. He shook, the cold wind tearing through him. Slowly he rose to his feet. Extending his hands wide for balance, Seth inched toward the truck.
The car was almost fully submerged in the rising flood. Standing thigh-deep, he felt the heat radiating off the truck’s grille and knew scaling it would be easy. There were lots of places to grab on to, lots of places to push off from. But there was no way to grip the metal without burning his hands.
Gritting his teeth, Seth plunged his fists into the water, holding them there until the cold numbed them. He’d still burn himself, but with any luck, he’d be able to ignore the pain long enough.
Seth grabbed hold of the grille, scaling it as fast as he could. The heat seared his palms. He clenched his teeth and scrabbled onto the hood of the truck. The rumbling engine shuddered beneath him. On hands and knees, he crawled toward the passenger’s window.
Seth collapsed in a wet heap into the deep bucket seat. Heat blasted through the open vents. Shuddering, he leaned into it.
The truck driver had a thick, compact build and a garden gnome’s pointy beard.
“Dude, you must have balls the size of coconuts to try driving through that shit,” he said.
Seth shrugged. “More balls than brains.”
The driver chuckled. He shifted the truck into reverse. Easing back, he turned the wheel and drove around the car, angling for the far shore. The monster truck sliced through the floodwaters with the ease of a Coast Guard Cutter through calm seas.
“I’m Seth Crawford.”
“Darryl Saintil.”
“Good to meet you, Darryl. Sorry to drag you out in the middle of this shit-storm to rescue me.”
“Hey, no worries. I was looking for a way to get across. The cop had me stopped, but when you got in over your head, he sent me out. Works better for me this way.”
Outside, Seth spied a spotlight reflecting off the thick blanket of cloud cover. He leaned forward, craning his neck toward the light.
“Medical chopper,” Darryl said. “They land over by the middle school.”
Seth’s stomach sank.
“Accident?”
The guy made a smacking sound with his lips and shrugged his shoulders. “Likely. On a night like this, there’s bound to be trouble.”
The truck lurched up the steep embankment, out of the water. Something slid across the seat and bumped against his thigh.
Darryl’s cell phone glimmered in the lights from the dash. Stealing went against everything he believed in, but he needed a phone. He’d give it back, he reasoned, and would even give Darryl a few extra bucks for his trouble. Right now he had to find Marissa.
“I’m going to toss your cell phone in the glove compartment,” Seth said.
“Thanks, man.”
Seth opened the glove compartment and closed it again. Instead of placing the phone inside, he slid it into his coat pocket.
Darryl steered around the barricade on the far side of the water.
“Where do you want me to drop you?”
“Here’s fine.”
Seth stuck out his hand and Darryl shook it.
“Thanks for the ride.”
“Anytime. Stay out of the water, you lunatic.”
Seth grinned. He propped the door open and hopped out of the truck. His feet thumped against the pavement. The door slammed and Darryl took off down the main drag.
A lone police officer diverted traffic away from the barrier. Overhead he heard the whump whump whump of the chopper blades as they sliced through rain-choked sky, and Seth looked back at the cop.
“What’s with the medevac?”
“Haven’t you caused enough trouble for one night?”
Raising his hands, Seth kept walking. He pulled Darryl’s phone from his pocket and dialed Henry Cahill’s number.
“Hello,” Cahill barked into the phone.
“It’s me. Have you heard from Marissa?”
“Marissa? No. Where have you been? I’ve left you a dozen messages.”
“My phone’s dead.”
“Where are you?”
“Carnation,” Seth said. “Kelly’s gone. Bowman has her. Last I heard from Marissa, she was heading out Route 202. She’s walking right into a trap. We’ve got to find her, Henry, before Bowman does.”
Rounding the next corner, he smelled something, like cedar burning in a hearth. He frowned. On a night like this, the air heavy with rain, he shouldn’t be able to smell someone’s fireplace. He looked up.
Two blocks away a bright column of flames shot up past the rooftops into the inky sky. Thick, noxious plumes of gray smoke collided with the low ceiling of clouds. Seth’s stomach constricted. He quickened his pace.
“You heard what happened there? In Carnation?” Cahill asked.
Seth stopped, his gaze riveted on the blaze. “Uh, yeah. Something about a fire.”
He started at the hurtling flames, horrified. Transfixed. His hands shook and he remembered the green door, the flames, and the agony of his burning flesh. How nothing had dulled the pain. He remembered how the fire had devoured everything in his life that mattered and left him a burned-out shell of a man.
He stared at the blaze. His scars itched.
The only thing that mattered now was Marissa, and short of a miracle, he was going to lose her too.
“Crawford!”
Seth heard Cahill shouting on the other end of the phone.
“I’m here,” he said, unable to tear his gaze away from the flames. “Have you tried pinging their phones?”
“Yeah. Nothing.”
“You’ve tried them all?”
“Marissa, Kelly, Brooke, and Alicia—he’s probably dumped them all.”
“Shit. Shit.”
“I started looking out Route 202 for something that might mean something to Bowman. Marissa wrote a lot of things down, and, well . . .” Cahill’s voice trailed off.
Seth covered an ear, trying to blunt the noise.
“Louder, Henry.”
“There’s a youth camp located two miles downriver from where you’re standing. Andrew Bowman spent a summer there.”
“I need the location. Text it to me.”
“Yeah.” Cahill hesitated. “It may be a dead end.”
Finally Seth turned away from the fire.
“It’s the only lead we’ve got.”
Chapter 61
“Can’t . . . feel . . . my legs.”
Brooke’s words hit Kelly like a shock wave. She rocked back on her heels. Kelly squinted into the darkness as she tried to see something. Anything. But the dark closed around her like a thick black hood. She swallowed.
“You can’t feel your legs? You mean like they’ve fallen asleep?”
“Worse.”
“Can you move at all?”
“Some,” Brooke croaked.
“Then you have to do it. We have to find the knife.”
“How?”
Kelly turned toward her sister’s small, scared voice.
“Are you tied up?”
“Foot . . . chained . . .”
A chain? Panic flailed like a trapped bird inside Kelly’s chest.
“Yes.”
“Then you need to move.”
“Can’t.” Anger sparked in her sister’s voice.
“You have to,” Kelly yelled back. “My hands are tied. I can’t see anything. You have to climb off the bed.”
“I can’t.”
“You can. If you don’t, we’re both going to die here. Is that what you want?”
“I . . . hurt.”
Finding the knife was their only hope. With her hands tied behind her back, she was useless. Kelly needed Brooke to move. It was the only way.
“Stop telling me what you can’t do.”
“Bitch,” Brooke spit.
Kelly heard soft hiccupping sobs. Tears stung her eyes, and she blinked them back.
“Look, I know it hurts. I know you don’t want to move, but if we stay here, we’re going to die. Please, Brooke, do it for me.”
For a long time Brooke said nothing. Then Kelly heard a thump. Loud. Sharp.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
A grunt. Yes.
Kelly swept her foot in a wide arc, feeling for the knife, praying she didn’t accidentally kick it farther away. She heard Brooke crawling along the floor.
The stale stench of sweat and urine wafted off her sister’s body. Sorrow and revulsion clogged Kelly’s throat. What had Bowman done to her sister? What was he planning to do to her? She had no idea how long ago he’d been here, but she knew he’d be back.
“Got . . . it,” Brooke said.
Kelly’s breath rushed out in a dewy cloud of steam. She turned toward the sound of Brooke’s voice.
“Okay, I’m coming to you.”
Kelly heard Brooke’s breathing—shallow and rapid. Sorrow squeezed her heart. She eased forward until she saw Brooke—a dark shape hunched on the floor. Blinking back tears, Kelly knelt beside her.
“It’s a switchblade. You’ll have to open it.”
“Don’t . . . want . . . to cut . . . you.”
“Don’t worry about that. If you do, I’ll deal with it.”
Kelly bowed her head and waited. Seconds passed like hours. The sound of the howling wind and pounding rain filled the cabin. Finally Brooke’s spidery hands found hers. Slowly, haltingly, Brooke placed the blade and began to saw with slow, jerky movements.
“It’s . . . hard.”
“I know. I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean those things I said. I just . . . I just had to get you moving.”
Brooke said nothing. She continued sawing the ropes.
“I’m scared, Brooke.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d been scared. She remembered Rick’s violent outbursts and how she’d huddled on the narrow twin bed, waiting for the screaming to stop. Brooke had sat beside her, holding her hand and telling her everything would be all right. They’d both known it was a lie.
“Me . . . too,” Brooke said.
Kelly wanted to comfort her sister, but no words came. They were stuck in this awful place, together.
In the distance Kelly heard a crash and a rumble, like falling trees. Or something worse. The ground shook. The cabin’s floor heaved beneath her knees. Wood cracked and splintered as if the floor had given way. She heard breaking glass. Then it stopped.
“What the hell was that?” she said. No answer. “Brooke?”
A terrible silence filled the cabin. Kelly swung around, searching the dark for her sister.
“Brooke,” Kelly screamed.
Chapter 62
In the headlights’ narrow beam, the muddy road looked like a goat path, little more than a narrow gravel track leading into the woods. A thick black wall of evergreen trees rose up from the earth like an unbroken line of sentinels. Gravel growled and popped beneath her wheels. Tension pounded into the base of her brain with the force of a sledgehammer.
It was nearly impossible to see out here. Even with the wipers slashing at a blistering pace, sheets of rain swept across the windshield, obscuring her view.
The phone rang, splitting the silence like a shrieking child. She picked up the call, fully expecting to hear Andy’s hateful voice.
“Marissa?”
“Oh, Seth. Thank God.”
“Where are you?”
“On a forestry road, east of Carnation.”
“Pull over and wait for me.”
As much as she wanted Seth beside her, she couldn’t stop. Thirty minutes had passed since the last time Andy had called. She couldn’t afford to waste another second.
“I can’t. My girls need me.”
“Don’t be so fucking stupid. You’re doing exactly what he wants.”
She heard the panic, the desperation in his voice. She hated herself for hurting him, but what choice did she have? She had to find her girls.
“I have to go, Seth. You know I do.”
“He’s going to kill you.”
His words rocked her to the core. She knew he was right. But it didn’t matter.
“I can’t leave them.”
“Goddammit, Marissa.” The phone beeped. Seth’s voice cut out. After a second of static, he was back. “I’m not going to lose you. I can’t lose you.”
His words tore Marissa’s heart. Finally she had found a man worth loving—someone strong and kind and good—and she had no choice but leave him behind by doing the one thing sure to tear them apart. He had already lost so much. A wife. A baby. All he wanted was to save her, but Andy Bowman had left her no choice. Kelly and Brooke came first.
“Even if you’re right and the worst happens, I have to be with my girls. Even if all we get is three more seconds together . . .” Her voice broke. Tears slid down her cheeks, and she kept her eyes trained on the narrow road ahead.
“Whatever happens . . .” Static on the phone line. “You have to know this isn’t your fault. You couldn’t have done more than you already have. Remember that.”
The phone beeped.
“Seth?” No response. “Seth?”
The call dropped and she lost him. Dammit.
She wished she could see him one last time and tell him everything that was in her heart. Say goodbye. But it was too late for that. Hands trembling, she swiped the tears from her face and kept going.
The car rumbled along the single-lane road hugging the hillside. To her right she spied a pile of jagged boulders at the base of the rise. To her left the road fell away into darkness. Silently she recited the directions Andy had given her, replaying them like a tape over and over again inside her head. Somewhere far below lay the valley floor, the camp, and the swollen Tolt River.
Marissa heard a noise. Deafening. Like a rumbling freight train roaring down the hillside, a deluge of water rushed down the hill.
What the hell was happening?
Something hard and heavy crashed into the passenger’s door, knocking the car sideways. Metal groaned. The car careened off the road and lurched down the hill.
Marissa screamed.
The car pitched and rolled. Then nothing. Her stomach plummeted in a sickening drop, like the violent plunge of a roller coaster. Only there was no track below to save her.
The car tumbled down the hillside before jerking to an abrupt halt. Marissa’s head smashed into the side window.
Several minutes of nothingness passed. Marissa awoke to a roar, like white water racing through a jagged canyon. Her head throbbed. The sharp edge of the seat belt dug into her neck. She opened her eyes.
It was dark. The air smelled of mud and dirt and . . .
Water, freezing cold, poured into the car from the cracked windshield. With a start she realized where she was. A wave of panic crashed over her.
The river.
All around her the river raged. The current surged swift and strong around the edges of the car, shifting it like prey in its grasp, nudging it deeper, toward the center. Black waves struck the windshield halfway up and rising.
Ice-cold water sluiced through the cracked glass, washing over her knees, fi
lling the car. Panic seized her.
Everything hurt. Sharp pain sizzled down her neck into her lower back. Her breath hissed through clenched teeth. She jammed her thumb against the seat belt button. Nothing happened.
It was hopeless. She was trapped.
The car shifted sideways, nose pointing downriver. The water climbed up the windshield, past the midway mark, a few inches from the top. Fear spiked through her. She tried not to think about the growing pressure and how the cracked windshield might give way altogether and flood the car’s interior in one final rush, but she couldn’t tear her eyes off the glass and the clawing water pouring in.
She had to get out. She was Brooke and Kelly’s last hope.
Desperately she worked the button. She heard a crack. The windshield splintered out into a spider web before her eyes.
She jammed her thumb against the button. She heard a click, and the seatbelt released.
Marissa drove her shoulder into the door, pushing as hard as she could. Pain lit up the left side of her body. It was no use. The pressure of the water outside the car made opening the door impossible.
Think. She had to think. Water rose up past her chest. A fresh wave of panic shivered through her. Marissa forced it back and focused on a single thought.
The window.
Marissa swiveled in her seat. Pain shrieked through her head. She braced herself against the console. Clenching her teeth, she pulled her legs back and drove her heels into the glass. A muffled scream escaped her lips. She kicked two, three more times, and the window gave way.
Water gushed into the car. It ran over her shoulders and up her neck, shocking her skin like a thousand stinging bees. She gasped.
Dirty water filled her mouth. She coughed and spit it out. Drawing in a last desperate breath, she ducked beneath the water. The shoes slid from her feet as she launched herself through the broken window.
Marissa scrambled to the surface. The cold night air filled her burning lungs while all around her the river roared like an angry monster. Catching her up in the clawing current, it dragged her downriver. She kicked her feet, fighting to stay above the surface. The shore seemed impossibly far. Her limbs felt like lead weights.
In the Dark Page 34